


You said you'd be nicer to her

by StrictlyNoFrills



Category: Roswell (TV 1999)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Oneshot, Pre-polar, probably, set between Leaving Normal and Missing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
Summary: Based upon a line from the episodeMissing: "You said you'd be nicer to her."
Relationships: Michael Guerin & Liz Parker, pre-Michael Guerin/Liz Parker
Kudos: 28





	You said you'd be nicer to her

She stomped her foot. Actually lifted her little sneaker and slammed it into the ground, finishing the act off by grinding her teeth and letting out a kittenish growl. “I HATE Pam Troy!” she hissed to all those near enough to hear.

Michael eyed her from his place against the locker he never opened, because he never bothered to carry his books. “You look like a child right now, Parker,” he observed indolently.

Her dark gaze snapped to meet his, and her cheeks turned a shade of red his hands ached to capture on paper. He’d found himself desiring to do such things more and more ever since he’d all but stumbled upon the talent. “I’m sixteen, Michael. According to the state of New Mexico, I am a child. And anyway, don’t be such a jerk,” she muttered, tearing her eyes away and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“You know what your problem is?”

“Right now, I can think of at least one of them. Tall, brooding, has spikey hair?” she snarked, though he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

Ignoring the weak attempt judiciously, he told her, “You never allow yourself to really let go on the people who deserve it.” He nodded in the direction the permed and perfumed witless wonder recently flounced off towards. “Next time she pisses you off, just tell her, to her face: she’s a heinous bitch, and you hate her guts. I guarantee you’ll feel better.”

She considered it for a moment, which was honestly more than Michael had expected from Little Miss Perfect, and then shook her head. “For about five seconds, maybe. Then I’d just feel petty and mean. I don’t want to sink to her level, you know?”

With a sigh, Michael heaved himself up from his leonine sprawl against his locker and began to meander in the general direction of his next class. “Whatever, Parker. Don’t ever tell Maxwell I didn’t make an effort.”

“An effort?” she echoed bemusedly.

“To be nicer to you,” he called, looking at her over his shoulder long enough to catch her surprised blink.

“Oh,” she uttered intelligently, before a smile crept into her tone. “Well, um, thank you. I promise to give Max a glowing report.”

“You do that,” he replied, not even turning around this time.

His final class of the day included the bane of Parker’s existence, and Michael bumped into her. Muttering a low, insincere, “Sorry,” he twisted out and away from her, grimacing and silently resolving to take a long, hot shower to scald away any traces of Troy. No one should wear that much hairspray, or that much cheap perfume. Hopefully his usual teenage boy musk and the odor of stale beer that clung to Hank’s trailer would quickly overwhelm any scents his brief contact with her shoulder would leave behind.

The next day, the sophomore class was in a low-key uproar about Pam Troy’s sudden outbreak of cystic acne. She had done her best to conceal it with the most effective makeup a teenage girl could afford, but the bumps covered her face from temple to chin, and no amount of concealer and foundation could hide the tell-tale outward curve of such large zits.

He passed Parker in the hallway, and when she caught sight of him, her lips twitched. She was visibly torn between being pleased and being disappointed. Finally, she rolled her eyes and gave him a small, slightly guilty grin.

‘Thanks,’ she mouthed.

He nearly gave their history teacher a heart attack, walking in with that huge grin on his usually sullen face, which only made his day improve that much more.

Max and Isabel glanced at him as if they had never seen him before, equally unsure how to react to his obviously good mood. He nodded at them and sat in his usual desk on the back row, giving a long, luxurious stretch and cheerfully ignoring the way that his wide arm-span forced the students around him to lean away in order to avoid getting hit.

Parker walked in a few minutes later, her ditzy best friend in tow and chattering excitedly away about Pam Troy’s sudden ill fortune. She glanced away from the blonde motormouth at her side and sent him another small, secretive upturn of her cherry red, lightly chapstick-coated lips. He gave her a single, short nod and then studiously ignored Maxwell’s abruptly intent gaze on the side of his face, feigning interest in their history teacher’s latest attempt to shove some revised knowledge of the past into their adolescent brains.

Yeah. Never let anyone say he didn’t try.


End file.
